Music for the Muse
by Pchefbeth
Summary: The story takes place post Season 7 Finale. Rory is on the road and trying to get used to her new job. She receieves a care package from an old friend, and a new friendship is born that will help her get through her post college blues. Literai based.
1. Chapter 1

**Music for the Muse**

Rory stared out of the window of the bus watching as other folks scurried around below the window loading equipment and bags into the storage area below. She sipped her Caribou coffee slowly savoring the rich taste. It felt like days since she'd had decent coffee. She had tried brewing it in one of the motels along the road in the pot they gave you in the room. It had been the worst cup of the trip so far. One thing was for sure, motel coffee sucked, but then she'd been raised on some of the best. A wave of homesickness for Stars Hollow hit her so hard that she bit her lip as she inhaled. She missed the comfort of her own home, her own bed, and her books surrounding her. Life on the road left a lot to be desired. She'd spent the last three weeks trying to get used to her new job and surroundings. Following the campaign was not as glamorous as she has hoped it would be. Every morning they briefed her on the Senator's stops and schedule for the day. There were quite a few sites where they wanted to keep a small town feel and only a few press passes were issued. They provided copy of the day's speech, the questions asked, and many reporters wrote and posted their stories based on the information, but Rory felt disconnected. She'd been dissatisfied with her writing so far. Her editor had told her that it might take some time to get into the groove. They were a weekly publication, and so far he'd been satisfied with her editorials, but she wasn't. She hadn't felt that connection to a really good piece like she was used to. She wanted something that really grabbed attention and was thought provoking. Something that would make a person stop and really think about the vote they were going to cast, but so far she hadn't been able to put her finger on that pulse that had come so easily to her before.

She glanced around the bus again, watching as more people boarded and took their seats. She scanned the faces of the people boarding with particular interest this morning. She was anxiously looking for someone. Finally spotting the target of her interest she watched as he strode across the gravel parking lot and boarded the bus. From the front of the bus he stood and began his morning speech.

"Good morning folks we have a lot to cover today, both in agenda and in miles so let's get started. I have today's schedule to go over" he said as he handed out several packets that began their meandering path towards the back of the bus, "and finally", he said holding up a bag, "the mail has caught up with us."

Rory grinned broadly and from the back there were a few sharp whistles. This was the news she had been waiting for. They had been waiting for the mail for four days. The system to get the post to reach them had been set up in a similar manner as a military address, with a drop off point every few days, but at the last appointed stop there had been a disconnect and it hadn't arrived in time. Rory anxiously waited for the day's schedule to be completed so that she could get her mail. She was sure to have some by now. She talked with her mother regularly and emailed her friends, but mail was so much more personal. You could hold something that someone else had held, reread it; keep it around for when you were feeling blue. Sometimes she thought with a dreamy smile there would be a box with some twizzlers and oreo's from her mom, or some goodies from Sookie. She had to hoard those for when she was alone. She'd shared one package with her neighboring reporters and quickly was reduced to crumbs. It seemed other reporters shared both her appetite and iron stomach.

She half listened as the man went into details surrounding the day's stops. There were three today, and they had two more days in Ohio before they drove to catch up with Senator Biden at a rally in Florida. They had planned to spend the next several weeks in swing states, and then the debates would soon begin. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted the senator's motorcade passing by followed by the secret service in black sedans. Three of her bus mates were on the senator's bus awaiting a scheduled interview with him. He often scheduled four minute interviews on long drives like today. Rory often tired to imagine what she could ask in four minutes.

Shaking herself back to reality she caught the last few words from the liaison on the day's schedule. Finally he walked up the aisle stopping to pass out mail to people along the way. Rory sat up straight in her seat and smiled broadly at him as he stopped by her seat. He plunked a still full mailbag on the empty seat beside her and started pulling out small bundled items.

"Gilmore, Gilmore, Gilmore, Gilmore, Gilmore," he repeated over and over as he handed her envelopes, postcards, two small packages, and several magazines. Rory eyed the mounting pile as a pirate would treasure. She would be well occupied for today's trip. Just as she thought he was finished he pulled out a large box and handed it to her. It was larger than anything else she had received while on the road, and she paused for a moment trying to remember if she had ordered anything online. She handled the box with surprise. Engrossed in the origin of the package she almost missed the bantering around her.

"How many this time?" called out a faceless voice.

"Who won the pool?" questioned another.

Rory looked up from her loot and tried to figure out what everyone was talking about.

"14 envelopes, 3 packages, and 4 magazines."

"Lucky 21!" she heard someone call out as others groaned aloud.

As the liaison walked past Rory beckoned him closer. "What was all that about?" She asked.

He grinned at her and leaned over towards her. "It's been kind of slow lately, you've only been on the road a little while, and so after you've been here for a while you'll see we look for any sort of distraction we can find. Someone noticed how much mail you get, and they started a little thing. Never seen somebody get so much mail, not with the internet nowadays. We've got pools for just about everything. Keeps us occupied while driving."

Rory blushed and nodded, and the man walked back up to the front of the bus to take his seat. Sliding down further into her seat Rory wondered what the pool was on her staying in this job. She sighed to herself and lifted her eyes to the ceiling of the bus. It was always so hard to fit in. Working with reporters on other papers was so different. There you usually had the common goal of printing the best paper possible, but here no one was exactly friendly. Every one of them was a competitor, for readers, for story ideas and for interview time. Not the sort of place that promoted friendships. It was like being back at Chilton.

Ignoring the chatter around her and returned her attention to her precious mail. She picked up the large box from her lap and examined it more closely. Curiously she looked at its postmark and saw to her surprise that it was from Philadelphia. Her eyes widened as she realized that it had to be from Jess. She toyed with the idea of saving it for last, and then decided she couldn't wait. She ripped off the tape, lifted the flaps and found an envelope with her name on it, a cd, a book and a large box of fig newtons. Rory lifted out the envelope and pulled out several pages of a hand written letter. She opened the box of newtons with her one hand with a skilled move her mother maintained should be on her resume proceeded to eat them while she began to read her letter.

_Dear Rory,_

_I got your post card today and was shocked. A week out of school and a job already, and covering the Obama campaign no less. I guess I shouldn't be shocked at all, that sounds just like you. I was surprised that you left Stars Hollow so soon. I thought you might try to stick around and start up your own version of CSPAN, or improve on the quality of the Stars Hollow Gazette, but it's good to hear that things are going so well for you. How's the Porsche man taking to you being on the road so much? I'm sorry, I promise that I won't get hostile and call him an ass. (Sorry again). I want to stay friends with you and if that means biting my tongue around the pompous, conceited (sorry last time I promise I just need to get it out of my system) arrogant, inconsiderate, mindless, frat boy, boy band wanna be, weak chinned, drunken degenerate, then that's what I will do._

_Ok, that's out of my system and I can promise to be civil now. _

_So how are you? How's the job on the road?_

_Let me guess, posh accommodations at every econo lodge motel you could ever want to see, endless political speeches about lowering taxes, bad coffee, a constant humming noise on the bus, and lots of used minutes to your mom on the phone. I've taken enough bus trips in my life to be pretty familiar with it. In my opinion the humming noise is the worst, no matter where you sit it seems to penetrate your thoughts, but I don't know. I've never seen you without a steady diet of Luke's coffee, so it may be a tie. _

_So road trip job, which means about 2 suitcases. How many books did you manage to bring along with you? Let me try to guess. Fountainhead of course. An Austen for when you get lonely, you probably have a book about Obama and one about McCain. I'm betting there's a book that's a collection of letters, probably the John Adam's letters to his wife, and can I hope that mine might be in there among them?_

_Well I hope you don't mind but I'm sending you another one. It can be your new bus book or door stop, whatever you choose. I wanted you to have one of the first copies. One of the few anyways. We're only putting out about 500, but I have already gotten some calls from some of the bookstores that carried my first book. I'll probably be making a road trip myself at some point to see about stocking it out a little further this time. _

_So the book is for when you want a break from the fountainhead, and since I know you won't pick up Ernest, I thought perhaps you might read my next one. I won't give the plot away. I hate it when books do that, but you will have to let me know what you think. _

_So about that humming noise. If you say what humming noise I may already be too late. I've included some music for you on the enclosed cd. It's nothing big, just a collection of some things I thought you might enjoy. I was watching High Fidelity the other night and was struck with the idea. _

_Send me a copy of your magazine. I know there is probably a newsstand in Stars Hollow dedicated to it by now, and that Kirk is probably manning it as we speak, but I have no intention of walking down main street anytime soon, so you'll have to help me out. _

_Lastly, Luke called the other night and was concerned that you might not be eating enough fruit on the road. I figured the newtons were the only thing that could get past the Gilmore fruit phobia. Let me know what else I can include and I'll send it next time. _

_Take Care_

_Jess_

Rory nibbled on the cookie in one hand and reread the letter. She kept coming to the part where Jess called Logan an ass and realized that his insults were pretty near to the truth. It had only been about a month since the break up, and riding on the bus gave her lots of time to dwell on it. Jess's insults about Logan were so close to what she had once called him herself that she gave a little smirk. The rest of the letter had pegged her on just about everything else too, right down to the copy of the fountainhead she had in her laptop bag. Finishing her cookie she reached back into the box and brought out the book and the cd. The cd was labeled "For Rory". She turned her attention to the book. It was thicker than his last one and was entitled _The Cornerstone_. She ran her fingers lightly over his name on the cover. She was still always so impressed with him and all he had accomplished. She flipped open the cover and stopped at the dedications page.

_To the Cornerstone in my life- Uncle Luke_

_Thank You_

Rory smiled. That was really going to embarrass Luke. She wished fleetingly that she could be there to see it. She'd have to remember to ask her mother about it.

She flipped to the back of the book and found an author's note on the back of the book and stared for a moment at the face she knew so well. His eyes looked back up at her with the same intensity that she remembered from when she was in high school. Unbidden a memory of kissing him outside of Luke's diner after a disastrous dinner with her grandmother came to mind. Rory realized she was smiling back at the brooding stare of the author and moved to close the book when on an adjacent page she caught sight of some handwriting. She flipped open the page and found a scribbled message.

_Property of Rory Gilmore. _

_Better return it undamaged or she'll make you read The Fountainhead over and over again. _

Rory let out a quick laugh, and shook her head. Honestly, The Fountainhead wasn't that bad. She put the book down on the side of the seat, promising herself that she'd read it once she'd finished going through the rest of her mail. Instead of picking up the next letter however she went back and picked up the cd case and opened it. She pulled out her laptop and put the cd into the drive as she put on her headphones. She rested the laptop on the empty seat, and as she turned, a small bit of paper fell out of the cd case. Picking it up she recognized Jesses handwriting once more. It read:

_For Rory, a mix of road trip worthy music by Dodger_.

Rory pushed play and smiled brightly as she recognized the first song on the cd as the guns of Brixton. The ever present humming noise was drowned out and she returned to opening the rest of her mail tapping her foot to the sounds of the Clash. She debated for only a moment before reaching for the package from Sookie next; she was starving.

**Hi Folks, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. This story will have lots of musical references and so in order to put them together to best explain, I always hope to make a playlist for you of what is on the cd's she's listening to. Word to the wise, another author's prerogative is to use any music I want, so even though the show ended over a year ago, and the timing should only be a month after that, there are just some songs that need to be used here. I'm also going to be following a more current storyline with the election in order to move the story around. I hope to have greater interaction with Jess and Rory in later chapters of a more immediate nature and I will of course be returning to Stars Hollow at some point. Can't continue the story properly without doing that. I'm also looking for a Beta, so if there's anyone out there who would like to get into this story a little more, perhaps help me with some more musical and cult references I would be very interested in speaking with you. **

**For now, here's what Jess included on the CD for Rory:**

_**Guns of Brixton**_**- The Clash**

_**Breaking**_**- The Music**

_**Riding with the King**_**-BB King**

_**Black and Blue**_**- Kenny Wayne Sheppard**

_**Best of You**_**- Foo Fighters**

_**A current obsession**_**- Lacuna Coil**

_**Barely Listening**_**-Pilot Speed**

_**Dry the Rain**_**- The Beta Band**

_**Rise above this**_**- Seether**

_**Middle Management**_**- Bishop Allen**

_**Time after time**_**- Quiet Drive**

_**Beautiful Day**_**- U2**

**For those of you wondering why Jess has some of this music, remember the movie High Fidelity- The point of making a good mix tape is to fill it with music of what they would love to hear. If you have never seen this movie, shame on you, go rent it immediately. **

**Thanks for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

Dear readers,

Several people have written me and pointed out that Rory sent Jess a post card but I didn't mention what it said. Never fear, this was all in the plan. They may from time to time read back through old mail and letters that they have received, which is of course one of the best reasons to get mail, instead of just email.

I've also been getting a lot of questions about the book Jess sent her, and what is it about and can I focus on it more. I regret to tell you that his second book isn't that important to me. What he has written is not as important as what he is or will be writing. Spoiler alert- the 3rd book will be very important- I may even later write that in its entirety, we shall see how ambitious I get. Right now it is the 'music' for the muse that is the important part. Look for what he's subtly trying to tell her each time. If you aren't familiar with some of the songs, I highly recommend looking them up on iTunes and previewing them in order to understand the style. They are always worth purchasing. "Jess" has excellent taste, even if he does like Hemingway.

Thank you very much for the reviews and all of the reads. The response has been really overwhelming, but it inspired me to get the second chapter out much faster than I had originally anticipated, so thank you. This is my first Gilmore Girls Fanfic and I'm really excited about it.

Chapter 2-

Jess stared at the blinking cursor of his computer screen wanting it to change. The nearly empty screen of what should be several chapters of his new book seemed to taunt him. He'd finished his second book nearly four months ago and he wanted to jump straight into an idea that he'd had for his third book, but as swiftly as the idea had come to him it had evaporated into little more than a substandard plot he no longer had any interest in. He threaded his hands wearily through his hair and linked them behind his head and leaned back in the chair, eyes searching the room for inspiration. Above the wall behind his computer hung a huge cork board that was overflowing with bits of paper, flyers, bills, reminders and a small group of photographs. One was of his mom holding his half sister Doula at her first Stars Hollow Halloween Parade. There was also one of Matt and Chris at St. Paddy's day last year. They were standing on a bar in their matching shamrock boxers attempting to do a jig in honor of Guinness. Shortly after the picture had been taken they had been thrown out of the bar, but the moment had been immortalized. He made mental notes as he scanned the board. Pay the electric and the phone bill, call the landlord about the hallway light again, buy milk and cereal. Finally his eyes came to rest on a postcard tacked to the board in the lower left corner. He sighed softly to himself, unwilling to admit that he had looked up with the sole purpose at looking at the postcard, just like he'd done 10 minutes ago.

The picture of the bridge stretching over still lake waters surrounded by brilliantly colored autumn foliage still gave him a pang every time he looked at it. Looking at the image, time seemed to rewind, and drag him back to a period in his life filled with some of the best and most painful memories of his life. The bridge had been a sanctuary to him, but it could also incite some of the most powerful emotions he had. It was aptly appropriate that its sender was the one who he most often associated with those same memories.

_Rory._

He no longer needed to turn it over to remember the message. He'd all but memorized it, staring at it as often as he had before turning it over and tucking it away in the corner of the board. As if that stopped him from looking at it. He'd read it so often that now he could almost hear her voice when he read it.

_Dear Jess,_

_I wanted to let you know that I graduated from Yale this week. I would have brought you the diploma to prove it to you, but there wasn't time. I'm leaving today to start my new job for an online 'zine. I'm going to be covering Senator Obama's campaign from the road, but I wanted to send you a note before I left. I'm sorry for the way that I left things last time we saw each other. If you can find it in your heart to forgive me I would very much like to stay in touch. Below is my address. If you can't, I understand. I just wanted you to know that I don't think I would have gone back to school if it hadn't been for you. Thank you for the pep talk. Turns out I really did need it. _

_I hope I hear from you,_

_Rory_

_PS- I saw this postcard in the bookstore and it made me think of you. _

Jess sank back further in the chair and conjured up an image of her face. He could easily imagine how she looked as she wrote to him. How she'd brush the hair back from her face and tuck it behind her right ear but not her left. He wondered if she wrote several rough drafts before penning this one. It would be just like her, he mused, always looking for perfection in whatever she did. He could easily imagine the look that must have come across her face as she found out about her new job. When she was happy her whole face would just light up, and when her eyes looked at you they could convey more words than were possible in the English language.

Abruptly he groaned aloud, opened his eyes, and stood up, walking away from his desk and the postcard. He'd been so excited to hear from her even though he knew it was pathetic. She'd walked out more than a year ago, choosing that dim-witted idiot instead of him. He actually thought he'd heard his heart break when she said that she loved Logan.

He walked into the kitchen area and wretched open the fridge searching for but not wanting anything inside of it. He chose an apple at random and walked over to the nearest window and peered outside into the gloom as he took a bite. He'd always hoped that maybe one day after he got things together that they might try again. Never in all the time that he'd been away had he ever found her equal. A girl that was as beautiful was rarely as witty and intelligent, and if they were they didn't draw him in like she had. "_Face it,"_ he thought leaning his forehead against the window pane, everyone else still a pale second to her.

That in and of itself pissed him off. He didn't want to be hung up on someone who was in love with someone else. Especially when that someone else was an obvious idiot who didn't appreciate her like she deserved. She chose a guy that had sat there and watched her self-destruct, drop out of Yale and slowly become the woman his mother wished he'd marry?

"_But,"_ he reminded himself with a wry face as he threw away the apple core_, "she chose him and not you."_ He woodenly walked back over to his desk and sat back down. "_All she wants from you is friendship," _he thought glumly. His still blank page seemed to mock him further, so he switched over to his e-mail and looked through the messages hoping one was from her. The package he'd sent should have arrived by now, and he hadn't heard a word from her. He mentally berated himself for parts of the letters, especially where he'd outright insulted her boyfriend. But as much as he wanted to be friends with her again, he refused to pander and put on a happy face. He would be honest with what he thought, no matter what. His shoulders slumped a little as he refreshed the page looking for new mail. He really did want to be friends with her again. He missed just talking to her, even about the small stuff. She was fun to argue with and he could talk to her about such a wide range of topics; Music, books, politics, world events. She had a way of making him think and her good opinion was worth earning. There weren't very many people that he could make that claim of.

Scrolling through his new messages he was so lost in thought that he almost missed the very message he was hoping for. He sat up straight as he noticed the new message marked: Package! from and he quickly opened it.

_Jess- I just wanted to send you a quick message to let you know that your package arrived this morning. Thanks so much! It was a huge surprise, and your new book was an even bigger one. I'm almost halfway through it and I really love it so far. If Ernest had written like this I might have become a convert. But I'll save the review for my next letter. Keep the cookies coming! You were right about that humming noise, but the music helped. It was good to hear from you. _

_Your friend,_

_Rory_

Jess reread the email and was so engrossed he didn't hear the door open until Chris spoke from behind him. "Dude, stop that. It's highly disconcerting."

"What?" A startled Jess replied.

"That smiling thing; it's creepy. You don't smile. You smirk, grin, you look amused or pleased. But you never smile like that."

"Thank you Webster. What are you, some kind of walking thesaurus?"

Chris ignored the comment, moved to perch upon the nearby arm of the couch, and continued to pester. "So did you finish a couple of chapters?"

"No."

"Find out that they're making another Firefly movie?"

"Shut up."

"You got a date or something?"

Jess turned back to his screen. "Man, will you get out of here? I'm trying to write."

Chris glanced over at the evidently blank screen. "What have you possibly added since the last time I was up here? The….and….wherefore?"

"Oh jeez, you can be such an editor."

"My job is to drive the creative force."

Jess shot him a withering stare but Chris was immune to its powers. He glanced up at the cork board while Jess returned his attention to the screen and pretended to edit a sentence. "So, ever hear from the princess?" Chris asked casually.

Jess ignored him.

"Dude, you ask me if you can borrow some music, music I happen to know that you wouldn't listen to in a million years, a guy's entitled to details." He watched Jess's shoulders hunch up higher with every word. Damn he really was fun to pester. "So, you two _friends_ again?" he asked while making the quotation fingers.

"Remind me to warn her not to send anything that isn't sealed." Jess muttered glancing away from the screen.

"Oh please, we'd just use steam. But the editor in me noticed a little grammatical clue…..so, have you?"

Jess tried to ignore him, but he glanced up at the postcard without thinking and a small smile escaped his lips.

"Dude!" Chris shouted while hopping off the desk and pointing his finger at him. "Princess did write you."

"Can you stop calling her princess?" Jess said annoyed. "You make her sound like a toy poodle or something."

"Stop stalling. So, what did she say? Is she still with the pompous ass? Is she coming to see you? Did she read your book?"

"Yes, she wrote, ok?" Jess muttered, and then shifted uncomfortably. "Of course she's still with the prick, she's got a job for a magazine and she's on the road."

Chris was silent for a moment, a feat in and of itself such a rare occurrence that Jess turned around and found his friend watching him closely.

"Dude," he began cautiously. "Are you sure you know what you're doing here? I mean, don't get me wrong, she seemed like a pretty cool chick and all but are you sure you want to do this again? The last time she left-"

"Yeah," Jess interrupted coldly, "I remember."

"Do you?" Chris asked. "You walked around here like a zombie for months. You were here man, but you weren't_ here_. I mean your writing was great, but man as your friend I've gotta question why you want to go there again."

"I know!" Jess shouted angrily as he jumped out of his chair and started pacing the room. "I know how it was, you think I haven't forgotten?! I remember everything. Every word she said, every movement, every damn breath. I remember the look in her eyes just before I kissed her and the horror in them afterwards. I remember how scared I was of Luke calling for months, terrified he would call me with news that she had married that bastard, and become some sort of freakish housewife. I remember thinking that I blew it, that I could never fix what was wrong between us and that I wasn't going to get a second chance. I mean, she went back to the ass that was cheating on her, but she couldn't forgive me for leaving!" Jess flopped down on the couch and stared at the ceiling, his energy spent.

Chris stood motionless on the other side of the room, eyes wide and mouth open. That was more than they often heard him say in a month.

"I miss…" Jess began. "I miss how it was between us. Not just her but how I felt when I was with her. She made me dream, made me want more. Even if I could only have it back with friendship, it's worth trying, isn't it?" He asked aloud.

"Dude," Chris started excitedly. "You should write this." he said as he pointed to the blank screen on Jess's computer.

"What?" Jess asked wearily from the couch.

"This, her and you- they say write what you know, and you obviously have this on the brain. You should write about this. Back to the beginning."

"Spoken like an editor," Jess muttered as he rolled his eyes.

"Listen-"

"What am I? Nicholas Sparks?"

"May I remind you of his overall sales the past 4 years?" Chris said in his business tone.

"Aided by mindless masses," Jess retorted.

"You're missing the point. Think of this as a way of exorcising the demon. Put on paper the whole history. How you met, what you thought, add your own unique flair to the story."

Jess was quiet as Chris went on, his own mind already working.

"Look, maybe if you put it down on paper it will help you decide what to do now. Do you get over her, or do you tell her how you feel again."

Jess nodded his assent. "Ok," he said slowly, "I'll give it a try."

"Of course you will, your editor commands it."

Jess looked up at Chris and raised a cool, questioning eyebrow at him, a move that had Chris edging towards the door. "I can't believe that I'm taking advice from you," he muttered as Chris opened the door.

"Hey, don't forget, tonight is movie night. I'm picking up Chinese Food."

"Oh God, it's not Matt's choice again, is it?" Jess said with horror.

"Aw, come on dude, you promised. Don't make me beg. Two guys watching a movie alone, it's so Brokeback Mountain."

"Fine, fine, fine," Jess said as he waved Chris away and hopefully out the door.

He sat down at the computer, opened a new document and allowed himself to dwell on the memories of his first year in Stars Hollow. The words came to him fast and furiously. He started with the frustration that he felt when he was sent to live with his uncle. His anger at his mother and the solitude that he felt heading to see an uncle that he didn't know that well, in some town he'd never heard of. When he arrived he remembered that it was like a freak show. Everyone there seemed to love the Podunk little town and found it charming, which made him want to hate it even more. He remembered feeling unwanted at first, his uncle didn't even have a bed for him, just some cot, and he remembered taking out most if his anger on his uncle. "_He bore it well_," Jess mused as he leaned back in his chair staring at his progress. He'd written several thousand words and he hadn't even gotten to the pivotal moment, the night he went to dinner, acted like an ass and met Rory. He wrote for five straight hours before he was interrupted by the arrival of Chris and Matt with Chinese food, and this week's torture from Chris in the form of movies.

They berated him long enough to get away from the computer, and both tried to steal glimpses of what he had written so far. It was Matt's movie choice night, a fact that usually had Jess forcibly retreating, especially since Matt seemed incapable of choosing movies that didn't star Kirsten Dunst. Tonight was no exception and Jess found himself watching _Elizabethtown_. He was partway through the movie when a phone conversation scene sparked a memory and he returned to the computer to capture his thoughts of the time that Rory called him, the night after he won her basket, and she was still dating Dean.

He kept half-listening to the movie, not wanting to admit he wanted to know how it all ended, and found himself watching again from his desk as Kirsten's character sent Orlando Bloom on a road trip timed to music. Suddenly inspired, he opened iTunes and began searching through song titles looking for something in particular. It was time to send Rory another CD.

Hi Folks, I wanted to send Jess off on his 3rd book with the proper motivation. What do you think so far? In case you haven't noticed this will be a long winded multi chapter fic, so I hope you stick around. I promise that I will have chapters soon where they actually get to interact and hold real time conversations. For now I just wanted to set the tone of what they are both feeling and try to flesh them out first before I get into deeper angst.

I am looking for some suggestions of what he should call the book he just started writing, and I will have some excerpts from it in this fic later down the road. But in the meantime please let me know what you think so far.

Thanks.


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